First Days
by Measured
Summary: How Morgana and Gwen's friendship began. A twoshot.
1. The First Day

Title: The First Day  
Series: Merlin  
Character/Pairing: Gwen, Morgana  
Rating: Quite G.  
Word count: 1051  
Author's note: comment_fic: Merlin, Gwen/Morgana, first day on the job. / 1 ) - Beginning? 52_flavours

**.**

Gwen had heard the news that she was to serve the new lady just a week before she arrived. She'd thought all through what this new girl would be like – would she be mean? That was the first thought, even before wondering if she'd be pretty. She'd heard horror tales from Elvira, her neighbor who had gone to work for a wife of one of the knights. It seemed every day she was complaining that her lady was the most pompous, strict person on all of God's green Earth. Gwen hoped to high heaven that she wouldn't get someone like that. Her job would be nigh unbearable if that happened. Then, after the first fears wore off, she began to wonder what the girl would look like? Would she be a pert little blond thing? Or dark and swarthy? Or maybe a redhead, she'd always thought redheads were very lovely with their hair like fire. It made her want to touch that hair to see if she'd get burned.

So a sort of giddy nervousness settled over her as she practiced all the proper manners to keep while attending to a lady. She ran them over in her head after she'd pressed Elvira for details. Don't tarry. Don't touch her lady's things more than necessary, or she'd be accused of theft before she even knew it. Elvira said that there were even nobles who threw around accusations of theft for fun. Such a thing was so cruel she could barely believe it, but Elvira swore up and down that it was true and such a thing had happened to someone her cousin Eldrich knew.

This did little to assuage her fears on the matter. So it was that she was more than a little nervous when the day came. She was lead to a room with many pretty things, but Gwen didn't dare look too much at them lest she be accused of theft before she even started. Instead she looked at the stones – because no one could get in trouble for examining some stones, now could they? When she was sure no one was looking in on her, she took quick glances. There was a ghastly bearskin rug when Gwen detested. She felt for the poor thing, even if it was a fearsome predator. The bed was a four poster bed with a pretty curtain-like covering. She would have looked more, to be honest, but when she heard approaching footsteps, she bent her head right back to the stones.

A girl not much older than herself came in, a girl with the palest, most unblemished skins she'd ever seen, so much that it didn't look quite real. Like she was made of something other than skin, like stone. Her hair was long and dark and fell in curls down her back. Her lady had a look of innate sadness there – hadn't she heard that the reason for her placement at Camelot was her father dying? She felt a stab of pity for the girl. So young to be orphaned and far from home. There was a knight beside her as well, a rather uninteresting man with dull brown eyes and a mustache. Beside her new lady, he might as well have faded into the walls for she outshone him in every way.

She stood there, gaping, until the knight that came with her – a bodyguard she guessed – cleared his throat.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry! I'm Gwen, milady. I'll be attending to you."

She curtsied awkwardly and peeked up, shy to the face of her new mistress.

"I am pleased to meet you, Gwen," she said, smiling slightly back. Even her smile was a bit stiff, a bit constrained, but it did soften her up a bit.

The knight who had brought her cleared his throat again. "That's a bit familiar for your handmaid, Milady."

"But she's _my_ handmaiden, right? So I can treat her as civilly as I wish – and isn't it a bit of a hypocrisy for you to tell me this? You are below me in status, after all."

"Forgive me, lady. It is only that if you coddle them, the servants will start being troublesome. First they'll get lazy, then they'll start thinking they are something."

"I'll take that chance. You are excused, Sir Frederick," she said coolly.

He bowed and left.

She turned back to Gwen. "I'm sorry for that. Sir Frederick is so pompous. I'm glad to be rid of him."

"Oh, oh. It's no problem. I'll just...let you get changed. Just ring if you need anything.. Oh– you're probably tired with your journey, do you need anything?"

The lady chuckled. "There's no need to be so worried, I'm not a harpy and won't eat you up."

"It's just, I'm new at this, you see. I've never been a real live lady's handmaid before. I just worked in the kitchens and helped my father."

"And I've never been in Camelot or away from home," the lady said

"It's just..."

"What is it?" she asked.

"I didn't get your name. All I heard was that I was to serve a lady – they never told me your name, just your father's and...I'm so sorry about that, I didn't mean to bring it up–"

The look of loneliness and sadness came over her face again and Gwen mentally kicked herself. She hadn't meant to say it, especially right on the first meting.

"It's Morgana," she said.

"Right then. I am pleased to serve you, Lady Morgana."

She curtsied again and again peeked up as she did. This time to judge what mood her lady had fallen in after that mention – maybe she'd have a horrible temper after all?

But Lady Morgana didn't look sad, just wearied. Poor thing. She'd had to travel such a long way.

"Would you like me to draw a bath for you and get your things put away? You must be awful tired after a trip like that."

"Thank you...I'd like that," she said.

And while it'd not been long yet, she had a good feeling about her.


	2. Filial Piety

Title: Filial Piety  
Series: Merlin  
Character/Pairing: Gwen & Morgana friendship  
Rating: PG? G?  
A/N: comment_fic: Gwen/Morgana, father issues. / 6. wetting, wetting, wetting my sleeves. The Gauntlet

**  
.**

Gwen had only been on the job for two days when she first found her lady crying. Lady Morgana sat at the edge of her bed, her face in her hands. Gwen stepped over like one would to a wild animal, in slow steps, soft steps, and stood at the side of the bed, and asked what was the matter.

She didn't know much of her lady, only that she was sad and that wasn't something she could abide. It wasn't so much that she had to, she could have simply apologized and left and most other servants probably would. Her father had told her many times in a gentle, but firm way that it was no use getting in the affairs of nobles. Get too tightly tied up with them and you'd become a liability. They'd toss you aside the first sign of trouble because ultimately, peasants were expendable.

But Gwen couldn't just do that. Lady Morgana was her charge, and so far had been nothing but kind to her, even if a bit distant. Gwen set aside the clothes and came closer, slowly, softly like one might do with a wild animal. She offered her coarse handkerchief which even had a bit of ashes rubbed in, now that she saw. It seemed almost a shame to let such a thing touch her lovely face, but Lady Morgana took it anyways.

"What's wrong, m'lady?"

Lady Morgana sniffled. Even tear streaked and red it did nothing to lessen her beauty.

"I miss my father," she said. "It's so far and lonely here..I don't know anyone at all."

Sympathy flooded her. Gwen always was a bleeding heart. Her father always said that she'd take home any injured animal if she had half the chance.

She couldn't sit on the bed without permission. She stood there, a bit awkward with a smear of ashes over her cheek, the barrier between their stations invisible, yet so evident. But through this, she took a chance and put her arms about Lady Morgana. She could be punished severely for it, but the girl so obviously needed a hug that Gwen knew she'd regret it forever if she didn't. Lady Morgana seemed surprised at first, but she seemed to accept the embrace as she didn't strive to push Gwen away, and relaxed a bit in her grip.

"I can't replace everyone, but I want you to know, m'lady that you can call me any time and I will be there."

"...will you be my friend, Gwen? I do so need a friend," Lady Morgana said.

"I would like nothing better, m'lady," Gwen replied.

And for the first time since she'd come there, Lady Morgana calmed.

**.**

Morgana was there the first night when her father took ill, repaying that first favor, and the time when her father's luck finally ran out and he had died. Gwen was incoherent with grief. She stood, a rag in hand, thinking to work but all that came to her was that she would never see her father again. He was nothing but a memory, her kind, wonderful father gone – he had done his best by her after her mother died. And now he was– he was–

Her hand shook, the rag falling to the floor. She crumbled down to the stones and pressed balled up fists to her eyes until she saw little dots but still the tears came. She looked up through her tears when the door opened and saw Lady Morgana who looked upon her solemnly.

"I heard the news. I'm so, so sorry, Gwen," Lady Morgana said. Lady Morgana sat right in the middle of that uncomfortable stone floor and put her arms around her. She whispered soft, comforting things to her against her hair. To this, Gwen screamed incoherently, sobbing harder than she thought it was possible to sob. She pressed Gwen's face to her breast and rocked her, as one would a child, not caring if her lovely dress got spoiled with tears. She even offered her a handkerchief, one smelling of roses and clean, a far cry from the ash stained cloth that Gwen had offered years ago.

"I cannot say anything to make this better. I didn't know him that well, but to have such a sweet and loyal girl as you must be a testament to him. I can't make this better Gwen, but I want you to know that I am here. Do not think of me as your lady now, but your friend."

Gwen blew her nose into the handkerchief. She held it out, not half as pretty as it was, all spoiled now.

"You keep it," Morgana said.

Gwen laughed a little then, but only a little. The pain was still there, but with Lady Morgana there, she felt like she could survive such a loss.


End file.
